Much thanks to all the reviewers, especially the ones that have only just started. Would like to thank those who thought that the Marklin twist wasn't too obvious.
Junior, Mike, cue the theme!
...
Oh just, just great!
What, what is it?
Well the episode we were supposed to record today's been corrupted. The Missing Coach is going on the backburner, and, uh...ah, replacement footage! Right, here's a script, read off it!
This doesn't seem professiona-
I know that! But still...
...
The engines were finding life difficult. In a multitude of ways.
For example, following the Marklin incident, as it was now known, there were certain tensions springing up between the various engines. Duck, despite generally being rather forgiving of Percy, was rather more critical of the three big engines. Once again, the old tensions between tender engines and tank engines were rising up, though in this case it was more of a personal vendetta on Duck's behalf. The three engines took out their guilt on Edward, biting at every word and comment he made.
Added to that, there was a general sense among the trucks that they had been rather hard done by. Not only had their leaders been killed (Cutting off Marklin's intended revolution) but now the engines were treating them with hostileness without them even doing anything to provoke it.
But perhaps most worryingly, one day, Edward had been taking Trevor to do more work at the harbor when both of them had boggled at the amount of workers and builders, all sitting in the breakdown train and mending the viaduct.
"Bloody hell!" Trevor swore.
"Never seen anything like this before!" Edward told him. He puffed on slowly.
It didn't take long for the reasons to be made clear. The arches needed strengthening.
"But enough about the radio program!" cracked Toby when he heard the news, getting a rare laugh from all the engines.
The Fat Controller didn't want to close the railway while the work was done, for two reasons. A: He didn't like the idea of putting all the volatile engines together for a long period of time as the bridge was fixed up. And B: He was aware that he had already lost a lot of supporters for the increase in accidents this year.
So repairs took a long time. Especially considering how dangerous most of the scaffolding was in such a precarious position, and considering that many heavy engines repeatedly crossed it to get to Crosby station.
The engines themselves had to take care when crossing the viaduct. And their delay often made them late, not only for Crosby but for their journey to the junction, where they knew Thomas would be waiting to collect his passengers.
"Oh heck!" groaned Henry as he pulled express coaches through the very tight squeeze.
"Bloody nora!" Edward muttered under his breath as he pulled a mixed train of goods and coaches across.
Thomas, of course, was not sympathetic at all to their plight.
...
In fact, he grew crosser and crosser. "Time's time!" he would grumble to any who would hear and, begrudgingly, listen. "Why should I keep my passengers waiting, while Henry and James dawdle about on viaducts! Must be a nice life that allows you to do that!"
"Oh don't you BLOODY start!" snorted Henry, on edge most of the time. "Look here you little toerag-"
"Oi, less of the little!"
"-If we hurried across the viaduct, it might collapse! And then, not only would you have no passengers at all, not only would you be lost a dear and close friend who puts up with your crap far more than he ought to, but you'll also be seeing the backside of a lawsuit for a unsafe working environment and several from the victim's families! What would you do then!?"
Thomas kept a piously smug expression on his face. "Run my train on time for one thing!" He hurried away before Henry could answer, which consisted of four letter words that were so filthy it would have made a brothel owner blush.
"And for another, I'd get some peace!" snapped Thomas in private. Annie and Clarabel rolled their eyes.
...
Bertie was impatient too, for not entirely different reasons. He was timed to arrive as little as three minutes, just after Thomas. But now, his passengers found that instead of going straight from bus to train, they had to be kept waiting for Thomas to arrive.
They were, naturally, not very patient.
Soon Bertie, waiting outside Tidmouth in the cold, grew cross with Thomas. "Late again!" he snapped as he finally caught sight of some blue paint and Thomas panted wearily in.
"I-I SWEAR, I swear they make those hills bigger than they used to!" rambled Thomas as he braked to allow the angry passengers to board. Bertie pulled up besides the red faced tank engine.
"You know, we may be friends, but I thought you could go faster, Thomas." Thomas glared at the bus, who grinned mischievously. "It's time for another race! I think I could beat you now!"
Thomas's dander arose at this perceived challenge to his honor. He let off steam loudly. "Balls to you!" he said rudely. "Rubbish! It's those main line engines! They dither about on viaducts, and then blame the Fat Controller's workmen! It's just a excuse if you ask me!"
As he puffed off, Thomas shut down the annoying thought that he was perhaps acting like the pot that called the kettle 'Impetuous' but he continued on his way, sulking furiously.
...
The next day found Thomas in no more of a better mood. Especially considering that James was later than ever. Not only that, but he appeared to be carrying a goods train instead of passengers.
"Sorry Thomas." he huffed. "I was held up at the station! We lost carriages, so the passengers had to squeeze into these goods vans...and then the viaduct came along and made it even worse!"
"Oh it's lucky for you that I'm a guaranteed connection!" grumbled Thomas, and before James could answer he puffed self-importantly away. James lit up the countryside with blue language the like of which would not be found in a 18 movie.
"Come along, come along!" Thomas puffed, as he passed through the Hackenbech tunnel. He had the oddest feeling of deja vu, but bit it down. Annie and Clarabel were doing their best, but Thomas found he couldn't save much time. He whistled at the two workmen, still stuck at one of the signals, and hurried across a long stretch of line.
Suddenly, Thomas saw Bertie ahead, and stopped briefly at the level crossing. Bertie was steaming from the radiator.
"Not a good look for you Bertie." remarked Thomas. "What's the matter? You should be at the station by now, you're late!"
"I've noticed!" growled Bertie. "I feel dreadful. All upset inside and driver says he can't make me better! Thank goodness you're late too!" Thomas rolled his eyes. "Can you take my passengers? They'll never get home otherwise."
"Of course." said Thomas, who now felt sorry for Bertie. And he was also aware that the passengers looked as though they would tear him apart if he refused. He promised to get help at the next station, and puffed through the now open gates.
He set off again, and already he felt much better and cheerful. And Bertie's passengers, travelling in Annie and Clarabel, all reached home safely. Except for a drunk gentleman who threw up in Annie, and was thus taken to the police station to cool off.
...
When Bertie was better, he came to thank Thomas. "I'm sorry I teased you." he said through gritted teeth.
Thomas felt magnanimous in victory. "That's all right. I'm glad I can help. There are times when being late can't be such a bad thing after all."
And with a last, cheerful greeting, the two friends went back to work.
...
Oh, and one last little postscript.
The very next day, Thomas was pulling a load of trucks up to Crosby to help with building work. To do so, he had to cross the viaduct.
Two hours later than he should have been, he puffed in red in the face and unable to look the mocking James and Henry in their eyes.
Karma's a funny thing.